I Just Killed a Man – Story By Alexander Kennedy

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I Just Killed a Man

What have I done? I am beautifully crafted with a handful of red, heavily I am bound to this tool until my fingers lose grip. I want to go to that place, the one that calms me, no more shakes. It is a kind of hunger; I have starved myself for to long, blooded bulimia… that is it. I have painted their life story over these walls; the house will remember the novel until rubble is its end page. Wandering eyes wander for better times, this wasn’t me, I am a protector, it makes no difference as I have no story.  My first few chapters were blurred by staining. They won’t understand… they never did to me, how can they connect correct actions into opened cuts? I don’t know if I feel better, I don’t know… shake my head to stir the pot, the truth will be in the end result. Did you hear that? Have I received an extra eye? Seen me murder a man, I could have infected their life, forever.

I re-pick-up my instrument and step to play some notes, if there is more than one, a symphony I will take from their lungs. I map my head around the corner, no one to be hidden, my mind is flickering and in over thought. No more thoughts are my own, taken by haunt, aging on the spot, engaging and caught, that’s why they got chopped. Why is there a why? Echoed and yelled, a deadly spell, granted and wished upon, I rubbed the knife and made no wish. Come back to the scene, lifeless and no audience showing the elements. I watched him now as I watch him before, in my eyes I visualized this moment over and over and more and more. Fate for him was a date I would never forget, chiseled into my memory each bang with the hammer was a lunging motion with my utensil. Do I truly understand? Do you? …No. I have killed, to be honest; the rush was a heart thumper that pumped the honesty from my heart. Like my first sex act in a diaries note, yes, this room is unhygienic and grime licked but in either position you would not care unless the thirst was drank away. Why am I still here? Still thinking of this… The deed is done, leave.

No, I can’t, I want to soak up the enormity of this, when in my life will I get this chance again? Whenever I want, Invincible, untouchable, unreliable, that’s a lot of ables. The answer I already know to the question I am about to ask, if that was me, would you cry? Nope, If I was in that state, there would be no humane connection in emotion, a name spoken once in a casual conversation, is that all I am worth? I am a God in my own right now; I can make life and take it from those who do not deserve it.

Just slide down the wall and watch, don’t blink, do not even breath heavy, do not give into the fear of what might become from this event, which wants to crash upon you, it is just an emotion within you and you control you. Look at the blade, am I really that stretchy? I am a monster; I am an alien, is that why I did this? My nature is to blame then. The law will be here, I give it hours to days, they will catch up to me and on the third Sunday I shall be judged, so be it. I should stop myself now, put my self out of this world before the misery sets in. What have I done? What have I done?

He should have listened, shouldn’t he, my want wasn’t that steep for him to jump, his pride and manly standard brought him to his back, his fault, his. The angels are looking down at me with a shaking finger then pointing to the floor, hellbound, I should be putting my hands together to pray but I can’t drop the blooded instigator from my finger-tips. No more from his mouth now, that’s what I was chasing. How did I get here? I mean be pushed into doing this… I am smarter and I have stronger will, Murder! …Murder! …What have I done!?

Perhaps he is merely lurking in a slumber waiting to see me cry and jumping from this story, perhaps not. Let myself now be judged by me and me alone, I am one of those people who should be locked up indefinite, kept from socializing, kept from me, I deserve what he got ten fold, just a matter of timing. Step to the window, this maybe the last time to see and feel freedom. Look at the instrument again, play it one more time, now for your encore, show this world what truly happens to man when he is cornered by the world, God, take your life in to your own hands and scream to the Heavens so that Hell shakes even the darkest of souls. My actions are not meant for this world, so neither I am, do it do it now. Spread your wings and give back to the world what it has given you. Look… this is me, is this you wanted, well you finally have. What have I done?

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Filed under 2013, Articles, Author, Blog, Fiction, Mental Health, Short Fiction Stories, Uncategorized, Writer, Writing

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